D000163
by Radio Interference
Summary: Just couldn't bear to live with it.


**What the fuck am I even doing with this? **

* * *

_Oh where, oh where, can my baby be? The Lord's took h-_

Click.

_Those are people who died, who di-_

Click.

Fuck the radio. I'll drive quiet, I guess. Just thinking. But there's nothing to think about. I guess.

* * *

"Sonic, stop!"

What the fuck is wrong with you?!

"I didn't mean t-"

Just shut up, shut up... I need to think.

"I was trying to tell yo-"

Fuck.

* * *

Pull up to the dance hall; kill the engine. There's a fluttering feeling in my chest, like excitement. But I don't want to be here. Beggars can't be choosers, though.

Pretty nondescript brick building, save for a row of stairs and a railing. "REUNION" in red, big letters- Times New Roman 20 point font- drapes over the windows. Pretty seedy place for a reunion for national heroes. The place looks like shit.

Figures, I guess.

Swing open the doors. It's cold in here, I'm surprised. Chilling, to say the least. Fuck. I'm repeating myself.

Mobians, formally dressed. Up against each other; slow dancing. Some band in the back of the room is playing some sort of love song. Animals. I try to sneak over to the side. Sidle off and just get together later.

"Hey, look who it is!"

I turn around. It's the walrus. Was the inventor. What is his name, again? I don't remember. I try to force a smile. Stiff wave. He staggers over to my side, taking me by the shoulder. Shit eating grin, bloodshot eyes. I still can't remember his name.

"Nice to see you again, Sonic!" He says, slurring. I can smell alcohol on his breath- he's drunk, no, wasted. As if on cue as I realize this, he stumbles a bit. Nearly falls to the ground. He picks himself up and looks at me again like nothing happened. "How's it going?"

"Oh, you know..." I say, casually. Got to get away from him. "All sort of things."

"How long's it been?" He says. Loses balance, flails a little before righting himself. "It's been ten years, right?"

"Eleven," I correct him and crane my neck over to the rest of the crowd. "Where's everyone else?"

"They're over thereee..." He says, then nearly collapses. I leave him to drool all over the floor. Not my problem.

"Hey, Sonic!" Someone else greets me from the crowd. He turns around, it's Tails. No, as he likes to be called, Miles. Dressed in a tan suit with a red tie. Right next to him is the girl, Amy, wearing some kind of dress. She was always hitting on me, but when I finally took up with someone... Settled for second best. Not that she'd show it.

"How you doing, man?" He says, perching a shot glass on a badly decorated table. "How's you and Sally?"

...

"You didn't know?" I say. He gives me a strange look. "She passed a year ago."

He looks shocked. "Oh god, really? What happened?"

You happened, but still. "AIDS. Doctors said she had it for only a year, but I guess it..." I say, in a low quiver. He doesn't show anything, but sadness. No, that's feigned. Fuck you.

"AIDS? Wow... We're really sorry," he states.

Anyway, go on. "But how are you two holding up?" I inquire.

* * *

When the fuck did you get AIDS?!

I don't know! I...

Oh my god, oh my god... If you just gave me fucking HIV or some shit...

I'm sorry, I didn't know!

Knocked something over. A mirror. Glass all over the floor.

Tears welling up. Fuck. Face to hand. Why is this happening?

When did this happen?

I don't know!

I know for one thing I don't have any sort of fucking disease, Sally... Who did you fuck?

I didn't!

I swear, you better fucking tell me.

* * *

So, you two need a drive home?

"Yeah, we took a bus up here," Amy says.

Okay then, I can arrange that.

* * *

God, shut up. They won't shut up.

* * *

Amy's spread all over the back seat, head resting in Ta- Miles' lap. Gurgling, a red fluid bubbling from out of her neck. Miles is screaming and crying. A foul odor's in the air. I think he's gone and pissed himself.

Not everything changes, I guess.

"Hey, Tails!" I call from the front. "Remember Antoine?"

He stops whining for a moment. "Yes, he... He shot himself. They said it was PTSD. Big media frenzy"

But then he stops, thinks for another second. "Wait, did you kill him?"

"Me? Fuck no," I say, passing a red light. No cops around, though. I think they took a picture of my license plate. Oh, well.

"He did it because apparently somebody, like, raped and murdered the robot. Bunnie. Fuck me if anyone knows how to fuck a robot, but apparently that's what happened. Couldn't live without her."

There's a silence in the car. All I can hear is the rotations of the tires. And Amy. She's still making vomiting, gurgling sounds. She better not get anything on my fucking back seat.

"Why are you telling me this?" He says.

"Because... That was you, wasn't it?" I say.

He stays quiet for a moment. I pull over to the side of the road.

"See, Miles," I say. I open my car door. Another car passes. It didn't see me. "You're a fucking sexual deviant. A thug. You're scum."

"W-what?" He squeaks out. I open the next door. He tries to motion over to the other side of the floor, but I've grabbed his shoulder. I toss him unceremoniously over to the dirt and gravel.

"I didn't do anything? You think I did that?"

I know you did, you fucking imbecile.

"Wait, I didn't!"

On your knees.

"No, no! Is this about Sally?"

I pause. "What do you know about her? What did you do?"

"What did she tell you?"

"You and her fucked. You gave her the disease, you fuck-"

"No I didn't!" He pleads.

What? Are you shitting me?

I kick him to the ground again. Little fucker is trying to lie his way out of it. Just great.

"Well, you know what?"

"What?" He says, sniveling. Shitfaced and crying.

"I don't believe you," I say, then I blow his brains out.

* * *

Frankly, this wasn't supposed to happen.

Here I am, wearing one of those dopey dresses they give patients at hospitals, sitting on a bench. A doctor- a raccoon, I guess stands over me.

"I have your results, Mr.-"

"Just call me Sonic," I say.

"Okay, Mr. Sonic, I've received the results and..." He pauses for a moment. "You have AIDS."

Wait, what?

"Since when?" I say. You're fucking lying. I don't have fucking STDs.

"The test says you've had it for a while... At least four years. I'm surprised you've gotten this far without medication." Doc says. "We'll have to start that up, immediately."

* * *

"How did I get this?" I wail.

"Well, it could be any combination of factors. Have you been having unprotected gay sex?"

* * *

Fuckin

I stand up and just leave the room. I open the door and fucking slam it.

This is a dream. It's got to be one. This is bullsh-

I don't feel so good... What?

Everything seems strange. Slowed down. My body feels like I've been filled with sand. Brownout...

fu

* * *

**D000163**


End file.
